


furget me not

by thunderylee



Category: NEWS (Japan Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Catboys & Catgirls, M/M, Political Discourse, koyama's feelings, smut with substance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26816230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: The balance of the universe depends on KoyaShige existing together.
Relationships: Kato Shigeaki/Koyama Keiichiro
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	furget me not

**Author's Note:**

> this is not for kinktober, but it is my birthday present to myself! i really just wanted to write catboys =^.^=

"Get a cat," they said.

"You won't be lonely again," they said.

Koyama sighs as he tries to communicate with Milk once more. You'd think that they'd be able to at least understand each other since Koyama is part feline, but Milk just ignores all of his attempts to talk and focuses on the tempting hand in front of her. While Koyama definitely sees the appeal of being petted, Milk can’t pet him back.

"Milk-chan, what should I do?" he whines for the millionth time, giving in to her head-butts and running his fingers through her soft fur. _His_ fur is soft too, but it's been a long time since anybody has felt it other than him. Petting himself isn't nearly as satisfying as having someone else do it.

He thinks about Shige, as he often does when he gets lonely. His best friend Shige, who in a twist of irony is allergic to cats like Milk who don't have human hair. Shige, who is a rare breed of loner catperson and would rather sit at home writing his novels than curl up with anyone—Koyama, in particular. Koyama doesn't remember what Shige's fur feels like either, only that it's shiny and black and all of their fans love it when he lets it get long and fluffy.

You'd also think that being a famous idol would mean that there would be people lined up around the block to pet Koyama, and maybe there are, but he's older now and not just any affection will do. Emotionless petting may have been satisfying when he was young, but now that he's thirty-six he wants more than superficial love. He wants someone who will love _all_ of him, even the not so sparkly parts, someone with whom he can be comfortable doing nothing.

He wants Shige.

It's nowhere near a new revelation, but Koyama gasps all the same when he realizes it. He's known Shige since they were kittens. They were in junior units together before they debuted as NEWS, and seventeen years later they're two of three members left. Shige has been an integral part of Koyama's life for over half of his existence on this earth, and Koyama doesn't remember what it was like to _not_ know Shige. Best friends, comrades, brothers—there isn't really a term that fits what they are to each other.

Yet, Koyama knows in his heart that they’re soulmates. He knew the first time he laid eyes on the incessantly annoyed kitten with angry eyebrows almost two decades ago, and he knows now. And while they _all_ used to curl up together back then, what’s left of them have kept their distance for a long time now. Their human urge for independence overrides their feline urge for affection. Even Massu jerks when they accidentally bump into him now.

Milk seems to sense that her master is upset, because she makes her way into his lap and flips onto her back to paw at him. He obediently rubs her belly, her purrs calming him a little, but he’s still frowning because she’s not the one he wants to pet right now. Even if she were a catperson, Koyama thinks he’d still want Shige.

Maybe it’s a good thing Milk can’t understand him.

*

Working as an idol sometimes feels like being on display at the zoo. Koyama can’t understand the lions and tigers enough to confirm this theory, but he has gotten used to humans gawking at him and treating him differently than they would each other. He’s far from the first catperson to be a newscaster, not even the first in his agency. but he’s the only one on the morning show that currently employs him, so he gets teased a lot. That’s his role, he knows it, but sometimes he just wants to exist without anyone making a fuss over the fact that he was born with cat ears and a tail.

“You should be grateful to _have_ a job,” one of the other correspondents tells him when he expresses his frustrations one day over drinks. “Back in my day, catpeople were kept as pets and only allowed to participate in talent contests and modelling shows. You still don’t see them outside of the entertainment industry. It’s just unnatural.”

Koyama’s ears fold down, but he stays quiet. His colleague is loud and belligerent normally, but even more so when he’s drinking. The last thing Koyama wants to do is start a fight. Simply raising his voice would earn negative attention, the mocked “catfight!” calls that accompany any catperson who shows even a hint of their “feline temper.”

“It wasn’t that long ago that your grandparents were marching for our rights,” his mom says when he tells her about that unfortunate encounter. “Apparently, we still have a long way to go.”

Shige knows that better than anyone. As someone who struggles to be taken seriously as a writer as well as an idol, he often rants about speciesism and how humans don’t like anything that’s different. Even themselves as catpeople, he argues, they wouldn’t like it if there were dogpeople too, particularly since cats are genetically wired to be afraid of dogs.

“Humans aren’t afraid of us,” Massu points out as he stuffs his face. “They just think they’re better than us.”

He says it with the air of someone who is simply stating a fact, no strong feelings behind the words despite being a catperson himself. Massu will lecture about proper hygiene and organization for days, but he couldn’t care less about social divides. One of their former members used to say that Massu has an idol mind, which is completely aligned with the socially-acceptable existence of a catperson. There’s no dissatisfaction with the status quo to birth any protesting thoughts.

Koyama wishes he could be that peaceful. Sometimes he wonders how he still has a job, because he’s not very good at singing or dancing or acting, though he excels at public speaking and interviewing. He and Shige have their own TV show, where they raise awareness for social issues in Japan, and even the homeless people and teenage mothers regard them with pitying eyes. Like it’s more shameful to be a catperson working a human job than whatever misfortune they have come upon themselves.

It’s times like these that Koyama wishes he could curl up with Shige, to just exist together and forget about the unfairness of the world for a little while. Maybe, with Shige’s love, that unfairness wouldn’t matter anymore.

*

Koyama loves NEWS. He has always loved NEWS, since the first day he was thrown into a room with eight other wild kittens and told to work well together. He may not have been the leader at first, but he was the oldest. More than once, he was told that he treated them the way a mother cat cared for their young.

That just made it hurt more when they inevitably left him, breaking his heart four separate times in fifteen years. One was particularly bad, because two of them left at the same time but remained with the agency in different capacities. While it got Koyama finally named as the official group leader, that just meant he was now responsible for keeping the remaining members together, which he failed at this past summer when the most recent one resigned.

He’s running out of kittens. Massu’s not going anywhere, Koyama’s confident about that, but Shige has his writing and has recently gotten into producing stage plays. Shige assures him that he can still do all the things he wants to do and be in NEWS too, but Koyama still worries. There have only been three successful duo units in their agency, and he’s not sure that he and Massu would survive by themselves. At this point, if one of them decides to leave, it would probably be the end of NEWS.

Milk meows loudly from the kitchen, snapping Koyama out of his depression with a firm reminder that it’s dinnertime. Grateful for the distraction, Koyama coos at her as he opens the can of cat food and plops it into her bowl. She munches happily, without a care in the world, and Koyama wonders why he had to be born a catperson with complex thoughts and not a simple cat with a simple mind.

He immediately berates himself for having that thought. His human side indignantly opposes being so useless and dependent, overruling his feline needs once again. To make himself feel better, he updates his online blog and gushes gratitude toward everyone he knows, his fans and family as well as the other members and people in the industry. He almost specifies idols but thinks twice about it, as that kind of limitation could be misinterpreted. Catpeople owe their entire careers to humans, after all.

He includes a picture of himself and Milk being cute, making sure his bangs are hanging coolly over his eyes, and his mood improves the instant he hits “send.” Fans all over the world are smiling at their phones right now, giving him the strength to face the future head-on. His mom and older sister will smile when they see it too, even though he already told them to their faces last Sunday at brunch. There’s just something about proverbially shouting your love from the mountaintops that makes everyone involved feel good.

That good feeling lasts until he’s finished his to-do list, plopping down onto the couch in a tidied-up apartment with all his bills paid and clothes washed. He’s sure he could find someone to go out with, or even just go out himself and see where the night leads, but his heart isn’t in it right now. There’s only one person he wants to be with, anyway.

As though it were some kind of cosmic intervention, his phone rings with his special ringtone for Shige. It was their first duet together, a silly song about peeking up girls’ skirts that hasn’t dated well at all. Shige likes to pretend it never happened. Good thing he doesn’t call Koyama when they’re in the same room.

“Shige!” Koyama answers a little too enthusiastically, but that’s his nature. “What’s up?”

“You tell me,” Shige replies, using the tone he takes when he’s trying to get information out of Koyama. “You only get sentimental on your blog when you’re sad.”

“That’s not the _only_ reason…” Koyama starts, then sighs at what he just admitted. “I’m lonely, Shige. I haven’t been petted in ages.”

Shige lets out a sigh of his own, probably relieved that it’s not anything serious. “You’re not a kitten anymore, you know. You can’t just get spoiled for being cute.”

“Why not?” Koyama demands with a huff. “I bet that everyone wants to be petted no matter how old they are. We’re just shamed into not openly saying it after a certain age.”

He expects Shige to disagree with him, but the next sigh in his ear is defeated. “You’re probably right. It’s just that petting at our age comes at a cost, doesn’t it? We can’t just pet each other freely without any repercussions, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not trying to get involved with anyone like that right now.”

Koyama would bet his entire savings account that Shige meant the royal “we,” referring to catpeople as a whole, but that’s not what Koyama hears at all, and his heart is so big with the thought of the two of them actually petting each other that his brain speaks without any filter: “Oh, but _we_ could.”

Shige actually laughs, a low sound that rumbles pleasantly through Koyama’s ear canal until he processes the words that follow it. “It feels weird when you pet me.”

Koyama’s heart deflates as fast as it had swollen, but he tries not to jump to conclusions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you do it all the time at work, so it feels like _work_.” Shige scoffs, clearly dissatisfied with his explanation. For a writer, he sure has a hard time finding words. “It just...it doesn’t feel good. Like we’re playing a role, I don’t know.”

“I won’t do it anymore,” Koyama says solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

“No!” Shige exclaims, and Koyama’s heart is so confused that he doesn’t know how to feel. “The fans will be sad if you suddenly stop petting me. That’s your image, isn’t it? You’re the affectionate leader. It’s fine if you pet me for work. It would just be weird to do it when it’s just us.”

“Why?” Koyama asks. His voice comes out small.

“I just said it feels like work,” Shige snaps, and Koyama can see those black ears flattening behind his eyes. “Go to a heat club if you’re that hard up.”

Koyama’s gasp almost burns his throat. “I don’t want to _that_ kind of petting, Shigeaki!”

“Is there a difference?”

Shige’s tone is annoyed now, and Koyama thinks he better end this call before they get into an argument. With that one’s low level of tolerance, the derogatory term “catfight” gets thrown around more often than not. It’s been reclaimed between catpeople, but Koyama would never use it toward Shige, especially when he’s angry.

“I suppose not. Good night, Shige.”

“Good night, Koyama.”

Koyama cringes as he swipes to end the call. Shige had switched back to his family name. Koyama doesn’t even know what he did to make Shige so mad; it’s hardly the first time he’s whined about wanting to be petted over the years. Something about wanting it from Shige seems to have hit a nerve.

Milk head-butts him from her perch on the back of the couch as a reminder that she’s there, and Koyama relaxes from the way her purrs vibrate his head when he reaches up to pet her. Then he remembers Shige’s accusation and frowns at the very wrong assumption that petting has to be sexual. He expects that from humans, but not another catperson. Heat clubs are no different than cabaret clubs, though the people who frequent both are usually looking for more than innocent affection.

They didn’t used to be the same, though. He remembers horror stories his grandparents told him about catpeople being “employed” as sex slaves to humans, the payment being only room and board. The name “heat club” comes from the mating cycle of animals, which catpeople do not share. Not even cat people with wombs go into heat. It’s another slur that they reclaimed to use only between their own kind, but the implications are the same. Shige may as well have told Koyama to go to the alley and lift up his tail for the first willing stranger who comes along.

All Koyama wants is reciprocal, platonic petting, but it feels impossible when Shige insists on being all _human_ about it.

*

Massu’s small and stocky for an idol, but he still manages to curl up on the windowsill during a break in their PV shooting. Since the studios mainly employ catpeople as idols, there are plenty of spaces for them to rest and take a nap if they so desire. The windowsills are even larger than usual to accommodate their feline nature to be in the sun.

Massu loves the sun. He would nap outside if it wasn’t for all the bugs. The weather’s getting cooler, but that doesn’t dilute Massu’s fear of having something crawl on him. More than once, he’s jolted himself awake from a deep sleep and nearly fallen off the windowsill from a swift breeze. He definitely prefers the protection of a _closed_ pane of glass between himself and the warm sun.

“Can I join you?” Koyama asks gently, leaning against the windowsill with his chin on his hands. There’s enough room for all three of them to lie up there if they wanted to, but Massu’s used to having all of the space to himself and would often shove their most recently departed member clear to the ground when he would jump up without permission.

Massu’s tail twitches, but he nods and shuffles over a bit to make room without opening his eyes. Massu’s fur is tiger-striped and beautiful to look at, as expected of an idol, and Koyama grins at him as he crawls up onto the windowsill and wraps his own tail around his long body. People tell him he’s beautiful too, his own fur mostly white with tan splotches and an exceptionally fluffy tail, but Koyama just feels _big_. It’s awkward to curl up into a ball when you’re almost six feet tall. He doesn’t know how those K-pop idols do it.

At least the sun feels nice, and the windowsill vibrates with Massu’s low purring that only comes out when he’s eating or sleeping. Koyama has to concentrate to hear it, but he can definitely feel it. It lulls him into a semi-conscious state where he’s still aware of everything around him but not really paying any attention to it.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows is a weight against him and absolutely no purring. It takes him a few seconds to put two and two together, and when he finally does he scrambles to push himself away from the body he had instinctively cuddled up against in his sleep.

“Massu, I’m so sorry!”

“Hmm?” Massu takes his time yawning and stretching before directing sleepy eyes over to Koyama. “That was a nice nap. You’re warm.”

Koyama blinks at him, his ears slowly perking up. “You don’t mind that I moved closer to you?”

“Should I?” Massu blinks back at him, and it’s cute in the way that has Koyama looking at him like a kitten instead of a thirty-four-year-old adult. “It’s fine if it’s just sleeping, right? I nap this way with Nakamaru-kun all the time.”

Koyama glances over toward Shige, who’s ignoring them both with air pods in both ears while typing away on his laptop. Shige probably hasn’t taken a nap in ten years—sometimes Koyama wonders if Shige suppresses _all_ of his feline urges.

“But you always pushed that other guy away…” Koyama trails off sadly.

“He jerked around in his sleep,” Massu says, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “He kept kicking me and it was annoying. Besides, he didn’t ask first. You’re comfortable, so feel free to nap with me anytime.”

Koyama feels strangely praised despite the bar being so low, grinning as he leans over to butt his head against Massu’s shoulder. “I look forward to it. Thanks.”

Then Massu reaches up to pat Koyama on the head and Koyama’s body instantly turns to jelly, twisting around itself to press into Massu’s hand to feel more. Massu laughs when he realizes what Koyama’s doing and humors him with a few good scritches, enough for Koyama’s purrs to resurface from where they’d been lying dormant for so long and take him over.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Massu says firmly, shaking his head at Koyama’s pout as Koyama reluctantly pulls away. “Don’t need anyone getting any _ideas_.”

Koyama rolls his eyes and playfully shoves at Massu (who doesn’t budge). “Friends can pet each other and it doesn’t mean anything!”

Massu gives him a knowing look that goes over his head until Massu averts his gaze and Koyama follows it. Across the room, over the lid of his shiny white MacBook, Shige’s eyes are locked on him, narrowed in a way Koyama can’t read.

Shige immediately looks away, but his ears are still folded and his thin tail is angrily thumping at his side. When he starts typing again, it’s loud and fast.

“I wish I knew what I kept doing to make him so mad,” Koyama says under his breath.

Next to him, Massu rolls his eyes and goes back to sleep.

*

Shige’s acting strange. He is a strange person by nature, but this was out of character even for him.

He’s _avoiding_ Koyama.

It’s a testament to Koyama’s low anxiety levels that he doesn’t even notice until someone points it out. Several someones, one of whom hasn’t even been around them for several years now.

_You and Kato aren’t getting divorced, are you? It will break my stone cold heart </3_

Even when they were in the same group, Koyama couldn’t tell when Nishikido Ryo was being serious or using his typical dry sarcasm. As far as Koyama knows, Ryo and Shige are still in contact, so Koyama’s not sure why he’s the one who is getting this question. However, NEWS na Futari had just aired, and if Koyama’s math is correct, this episode was filmed right after the petting incident with Massu.

_What are you talking about? Shige and I aren’t together like that!!_

He sends several laughing emojis and figures that’s it. Ryo’s not a big texter and it’s one-thirty in the morning. Yet, his phone buzzes again, flashing an old picture of Ryo yawning cutely that Koyama still had set to his number.

_I no longer believe in love!_

Koyama rolls his eyes and forwards the whole exchange to Shige with some more laughing emojis. Ryo’s probably just drunk and projecting his own loneliness onto Koyama and Shige. Koyama doesn’t actually know if Ryo’s lonely or not, but it makes sense in his head. Ryo went from two groups down to one and now he’s just working with Akanishi, who’s already married with kittens of his own. Koyama thinks that drastic reduction of affection would make anyone lonely, let alone a catperson.

Shige doesn’t reply, the message still left on read the following morning. Despite being a writer, Shige’s not a fan of texting either, but Koyama’s call goes unanswered too. It’s not uncommon for Shige to silence his phone while he’s writing, so Koyama just waits for the return call, but it still hasn’t come six days later when he goes into the studio to film Barairo Dandy. Since NEWS isn’t working together right now and Koyama’s hosting NEWS na Futari by himself while Shige’s busy with his drama, Koyama doesn’t have an opportunity to see him in person.

Nadja doesn’t follow his business for the most part, but she seems to have a sixth sense for Koyama’s moods. After almost two decades in the industry, Koyama’s gotten really good at covering up his unflattering feelings at work, but Nadja always sees through him. While she’s not a catperson, Koyama feels a sense of camaraderie with both her and Diana since their lifestyles are considered “unnatural” by society too.

“What’s wrong, Keiko?” she asks the second they’re off the air, and Koyama spends the next ten minutes word-vomiting his loneliness and confusion while she nods sympathetically.

“It’s not like with humans,” he tries to explain. “We _need_ affection for our well-being. It’s biology. Unfortunately, so many of us have assimilated to the human mentality that only lovers should pet each other.”

“Let me get this straight,” Nadja starts as she takes off her stage face and puts on her street face. (Koyama doesn’t see much of a difference, but what he knows about makeup can fit on the tip of Milk’s whiskers.) “You asked Kato-kun to pet you and he said no, but then he got upset when he saw Masuda-kun petting you.”

“That’s a very condensed version, but yes,” Koyama replies.

“Sounds like he’s the one with the problem,” Nadja tells him. “You’re not doing anything wrong. He doesn’t get to be mad that you want to be casually petted. Hell, I’ll pet you for a little bit before we leave. Come here.”

Koyama’s tail shoots straight up at the thought, because Nadja’s acrylic nails would feel _so nice_ raking through his fur, but he shakes his head. “No offense, but I’d rather be petted by another catperson. It’s not the same if you don’t share the feeling.”

“Speciesist,” Nadja teases, and Koyama laughs. “Suit yourself. But seriously, don’t let anyone shame you for taking care of your own needs. If it happens again, call him out.”

“Yes, Nadja-san,” Koyama says obediently.

It’ll be near Christmas by the time he sees Shige again, Koyama realizes sadly as he settles in for another night alone. Milk jumps right into his lap, nearly knocking over the home-cooked meal he’d thrown together in an attempt to distract himself, and he manages to balance them both while flipping through Netflix to bide his time until NEWS na Futari airs.

This time, he pays special attention to Shige and how Shige acts toward him. Koyama’s usually too preoccupied with his own actions and the people they interview to worry about what Shige’s doing, and part of their dynamic is that Shige gets exasperated with him a lot. People who don’t know them will often think that Shige’s being mean to him, but even Koyama notices a huge shift in Shige’s attitude in this episode that was filmed a few weeks ago. Shige didn’t even have his drama script yet.

Still, Koyama is convinced that it has to be something else that’s bothering Shige, and his disapproval toward Koyama is just a secondary effect. Maybe he’s having writer’s block again, or he got into an argument with one of his parents, or someone was rude to him on the street—given that one’s temper, it could be anything. Shige’s brain could even be so distraught about no longer having someone in the group who consistently annoys him that he’s lashing out because he doesn’t know how to be at peace with them.

It’s far from the worst Koyama’s seen him, though it might be the first time Koyama’s been on the receiving end of it. As much as it pains him to be ghosted by someone who’s so important to him, hopefully this time apart will give Shige the space he needs and they can be KoyaShige again without any one-sided animosity.

But a few days later, when Koyama’s own mother gently asks him if he and Shige had an argument, he understands the severity of the situation.

*

Koyama doesn’t share a calendar with the other members anymore, but it’s easy enough to get his manager to conspire with Shige’s manager to find out when Shige will be home. Typically, Shige goes out even less than Koyama does, but with drama filming and his book release the odds that he will be home at any given time are low. Not to mention that promotional TV appearances are very early calls, and Koyama definitely wouldn’t get back into Shige’s good graces by showing up unannounced the night before.

He decides on an afternoon that Shige had blocked off for writing and picks up a bouquet of pansies on the way over. Green pansies are rare, but this particular flower shop had managed to grow a few and Koyama paid extra for them to be arranged with purple and yellow ones—NEWS member colors. It’s so pretty that he thinks about posting a picture on his blog, then decides against it because this is between him and Shige, not fanservice.

It’s chilly outside, autumn in full swing, and Koyama admires the color-changing leaves that have mostly fallen from the trees. While he prefers the newness and bright hues of springtime, he can appreciate autumn as well. After all, nature has to die to be reborn.

Nobody answers the door when Koyama gathers the courage to knock, and that’s just like Shige to ignore unexpected guests too. He knocks again, then sends off a text that it’s him at the door and not a solicitor, which doesn’t show as read right away. A few minutes later, Koyama’s seriously thinking he’s going to get left out in the cold and second-guesses whether that was Shige’s car he saw parked outside or not when he chances one more knock, just in time for the door to fly open.

Shige looks angrier than Koyama has ever seen him, but he softens a bit when he notices the flowers. He’s been very vocal about how he doesn’t subscribe to gender norms, lamenting more than once that he wanted to be surprised with flowers instead of the other way around, and he knows enough about gardening to appreciate the inclusion of green pansies.

“Can I come in?” Koyama asks after a few seconds of silence. “I won’t be long. I know you’re busy.”

Shige’s sigh stings a little, but he steps aside in an unspoken invitation. Once the door is closed behind them, Koyama holds out the bouquet as pointedly as he can manage without shaking them in Shige’s face, and Shige takes them into the kitchen to put them in a vase.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” Koyama gushes as soon as Shige turns off the tap. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to, but I can’t stand being ignored by you like this. People are noticing too, and not just Ryo-chan—the producer of NEWS na Futari suggested we keep doing solo episodes even after your drama is over.”

That’s not true, at least not in those exact words, but it’s just the right amount of guilt to break down Shige’s walls. If Shige won’t do this for their friendship, he’ll definitely do it for his job.

“Sit down,” Shige finally speaks, and Koyama happily plops down onto Shige’s couch and gets comfortable. At Shige’s disapproving glare, he sits like a human and not like a cat. “I don’t know what to say,” Shige adds after half a minute of nothing.

“Say what’s in your heart,” Koyama prompts him hopefully. “Whatever you feel is important, even if it hurts me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Shige says quickly, his face flushing a little as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch and looks down. Shige sits upright like it’s natural; Koyama doesn’t remember the last time he saw Shige curl up anywhere. “I don’t listen to my heart anyway. Not when it comes to you.”

Koyama blinks and feels an ache in his chest that he doesn’t quite understand. “Why not?”

“ _Because_.” Shige huffs, clearly getting frustrated with his words again, and Koyama wishes there was something he could do to make this easier. But he can’t see inside of Shige’s head _or_ his heart. “I work _so hard_ to be seen as a person like everybody else that it pisses me off to see you so unapologetically feline. It’s a reminder that no matter what I do, humans will see me that way because catpeople like you still act on their non-human urges.”

Koyama starts to narrow his eyes, then remembers what Nadja said the other day. “Humans want affection too, you know. They suppress their own desires and shame each other as well as us.”

“Even if that’s true, we’re the ones who are ostracized for it. Do you know how many times I’ve been told that my books would be more popular if they were about humans? That I should have published anonymously and presented myself as a human to get more people to read them? I cover my ears and tuck in my tail but they still only see a catperson who cries for attention, nothing else.”

Shige inhales sharply after that explosion, and Koyama’s a little proud that he got Shige to let out everything he’s been bottling up inside for who knows how long. If it were Koyama himself, he would definitely feel better after getting it off of his chest, but Shige recoils and seems to look even more bothered.

“Shige, I love you,” Koyama says gently, the words coming as naturally as purring. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”

“That’s just it—there’s nothing you _can_ do.” Shige lifts his head, and Koyama’s heart hurts even more at how sad his beautiful eyes are. “I won’t ask you to change who you are for me. I doubt you even could. It would probably hurt the group and even your image if you suddenly stopped being cat-like. That’s why everyone loves you.”

Koyama tries to keep his body from reacting at the praise, but his tail shoots up anyway and Shige actually laughs. Taking a chance, Koyama stretches out onto his back and blinks up at Shige upside-down, doing his best to look cute until Shige’s smile returns.

“There you are,” Koyama says, wriggling from side to side because his back itches. “I thought I lost you.”

It comes out deeper than he meant it to be, but Shige reaches over to scratch Koyama’s head and Koyama’s so happy that he scrambles onto his belly and rams his face into Shige’s knuckles.

“Okay, okay.” Shige sighs again, but he’s still smiling and Koyama grins even bigger as he creeps slowly toward Shige’s lap. “I forgot how soft your fur is.”

A mewl escapes Koyama’s throat as those fingers return to his head, sifting through his hair and the short fur of his ears while his tail thumps happily against the couch cushion. His purrs attack him full-force and abruptly the touch disappears, leaving Koyama struggling to stop the whine that forces its way out as he lifts his head questioningly.

“It’s not just public perception,” Shige says quietly, and Koyama narrowly resists the urge to rub his face against Shige’s knee because he’s deep into pet-me mode. “When you get like this, I...like it.”

Koyama lights up. “That’s okay! I like it too. I’m not gonna feel degraded or anything if you enjoy petting me. In fact, it’s better for me if you do!”

“You’re not hearing me,” Shige says, pinching the bridge of his nose like this physically pains him to say. “I become attracted to you, _sexually,_ and it creeps me out because I want to do much more than pet you.”

Koyama’s body reacts before his brain does, heating up so fast that he considers the possibility that there really is a mating cycle for catpeople, except that this hasn’t happened with any of his lovers before. In the time it takes him to catch his breath, he’s accepted that what he feels must be right, especially if Shige feels it too.

“It’s okay if you do that too,” Koyama tells him earnestly, resting his head on Shige’s thigh for some type of contact. “I like how I feel when you say that, so it must be okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Shige exclaims, and Koyama cringes in preparation for the inevitable shooing away that doesn’t come. “Even if it was socially acceptable for us to be like that, I respect you too much to use you for physical gratification. Our friendship is too important to ruin it for an hour or so of carnal pleasure.”

“It would definitely be longer than an hour,” Koyama says, his voice dripping with promise, and Shige rolls his eyes until Koyama reaches for his hand. He doesn’t move it or lace their fingers together, just covers it with his own in the way that humans usually find calming. “And I don’t feel disrespected at all. I feel _wanted_.”

Shige gives him a helpless look as he clearly struggles with whatever his brain is telling him. “I just...I get reduced to a plaything so much that I can’t bring myself to do that to someone else, even you. _Especially_ you.”

“It’s okay if it’s you,” Koyama tries again. “I don’t think I would like it if it were anyone else.”

“Even Massu?”

Koyama scoffs at the undeniable bitterness in Shige’s voice. “I definitely do not want Massu to pet me the way you want to pet me.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The silence returns, only this time it’s a little more comfortable as Koyama snuggles with the tiny amount of Shige he’s been allowed. He tries not to show his disappointment when Shige lets go of his hand, but then those fingers are back in his hair and he purrs so loudly that he vibrates the couch.

“I just want to do this today,” Shige says firmly, and Koyama nods as he stretches further into Shige’s lap. “Let me get used to petting you again.”

Koyama would agree to anything right now, his every urge satisfied by Shige’s touch. Somehow, Shige manages to be firm and gentle at the same time, and Koyama didn’t realize how much he’d been missing that specifically until he got it back.

That’s nothing compared to when his own hand makes its way up to Shige’s head and _Shige_ purrs.

*

Something Koyama both loves and hates about Shige is that he takes the time to think things through before making decisions. On one hand, it keeps him from jumping to conclusions and making big mistakes, but on the other hand, Koyama has to wait for him to make good on his promising words to pet him more intimately.

Meanwhile, the entirety of Japan (and probably the entire world) rests assured that KoyaShige have not had a falling out. The NEWS na Futari staff tweets an adorable (yet fabricated) picture of the two of them curled up together on a break, and Shige dusts off his blog to write a long-winded post about internalized speciesism. Although all Koyama had to do was express how proud he was of Shige in a VTR for one of Shige’s promotional appearances and he got seven relieved text messages. One of them was from Massu.

This whole ordeal has taught Koyama a valuable lesson—the balance of the universe depends on KoyaShige existing together. Anything less results in complete disarray.

It’s even colder when Koyama finally gets the call he’s been waiting for. He fumbles to swipe “answer” on his phone like a teenage kitten with a crush, enough to disturb Milk who gives him an unimpressed look as she jumps out of his lap.

“Shige! How are you?”

“ _Exhausted_ ,” Shige replies, and Koyama almost laughs. Shige’s drama just started airing, so there’s still a long way to go. “I keep thinking about you though. Can I see you tonight? Sorry for the short notice, but I wanted to make sure there was nothing last-minute that would make me cancel.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Koyama answers firmly, already curling up with himself at the thought of being petted again. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours, please. Mine’s a pigsty.”

“I don’t imagine you have much time to clean,” Koyama says sympathetically. “Mine is fine. I’ll put Milk in the spare room.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Shige tells him. “I have antihistamines.”

Koyama pouts. “But they put you to sleep.”

“Then you’ll just have to keep me awake, won’t you?”

Koyama’s eyes are so wide that he can feel air all around them, but Shige’s low chuckle brings back that heat. “I can definitely do that.”

“I’m leaving the studio now, so I’ll grab a shower at home and then be over.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

Koyama hopes he managed to end the call before falling all over himself with glee, hugging Milk so tightly that she growls in discontent. He’s too happy to care though, flailing around at the prospect of Shige petting him again, maybe even more.

Suddenly bursting with energy, he hops to his feet and tidies up his already clean apartment, changes his sheets _just in case_ , and takes a quick shower. He scoops the litter box, gives Milk some extra grooming to reduce the amount of cat hair (which she loves), and Febrezes the air. He takes out the trash. He stands in front of the refrigerator for a good couple minutes pondering whether he should cook something, and if so, what he already has readily available.

He’d worked up a sweat running around so frantically, and he’s considering taking another shower when there’s a knock at his door. Giddily, he races across the room and flings it open, grinning at Shige even though his ears and tail are hidden. Koyama doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he’s famous enough now that everyone already knows he’s a catperson even without the visuals.

“Hey,” Shige greets him, looking sheepish for one of the few times in Koyama’s memory, which makes sense when he reveals a bouquet of African violets from behind his back. “I wanted to give you lilies, since you couldn’t get one in Animal Crossing, but the florist said they’re poisonous to cats.”

That was actually a lily of the valley, but Koyama doesn’t care enough to correct him. Instead, he happily accepts the flowers and ushers Shige inside before Milk can dart out, not that she’s moved from her perch on the cat tree where she’s eyeing Shige contemplatively. He hasn’t come over that much since she’s lived here, so she doesn’t know him very well.

Koyama doesn’t have any vases, so a mason jar will suffice. The flowers look pretty no matter what type of container they’re in, brightening up the mostly white and brown décor.

“Thank you so much,” Koyama says earnestly as he turns back to his guest. “Have you eaten—?”

He’s cut off by something blocking his mouth, and it takes a few seconds to register that he’s being kissed. When his brain catches up, he flings both arms around Shige’s neck and reciprocates with his whole heart, lost in the swirls of soft lips and pleasant feelings as Shige’s hands firmly grip his waist.

It ends far too soon, despite Koyama’s desperate gasps for air, but the way Shige’s eyes flutter open implies that this is just the first of many. Koyama gently cups his face, smiling when Shige instinctively nuzzles against his palm, and Koyama’s other hand sifts through the soft fur to remove Shige’s hat and release his cramped-up ears.

“Careful,” Shige says, his voice a low whisper. “My ears are really sensitive.”

“Should I not touch them?” Koyama asks, just as quietly.

“You can, but…” Shige gasps as Koyama chances a fingertip along the edge. “I don’t want to jump you.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Koyama doesn’t recognize his own voice, sinfully deep and laced with the rumbling of his purrs. Shige makes a pained noise that turns into a groan when Koyama gently rubs the tip of his ear, his own purring increasing along with the speed of his breaths.

“I wanted to at least _talk_ first,” Shige whines, both hands tightening on Koyama’s hips like that’s the only way he can restrain himself.

“We’ve been talking for almost twenty years,” Koyama points out, pleased with how Shige’s tail has freed itself from its confines, quickly darting from side to side. “Let’s communicate a different way.”

It sounds just as corny out loud as it had in his head, but Shige just nods and leans in to crush their mouths together again. This kiss is much deeper, the pair of them pressing together as Shige pulls him close, and Koyama’s mind spins from having so much physical contact at once after so long of nothing.

He doesn’t know how they make it down the hallway, only that he ends up horizontal on his own bed with Shige hovering over him, tail so high that it bends over his back. Koyama can’t keep his hands off of Shige’s body and finds his way under Shige’s clothes, first the sweater that hides the firm muscles and soft flesh, then the pants that don’t do justice to that nice ass.

“Can we…” Shige gets out, and this time it’s not his brain hindering his speech—it’s Koyama’s tongue. “Clothes off.”

“Yes,” Koyama agrees, doing his part to expose more skin for his touch. They’re not idols for nothing, down to their socks within seconds, and Shige seems just as enamored with Koyama’s skin as Koyama is with his, his mouth dropping to Koyama’s neck as his hands fly all over Koyama’s torso.

“I want you,” Shige growls, so deep that Koyama jerks from it, and Koyama’s already nodding before Shige goes on. “It’s all I think about when we get close, when I used to pet you before, when I’m alone…”

“I’m yours,” Koyama whispers, his body falling pliant beneath Shige, submitting completely. “There’s lube and condoms in the drawer.”

Shige pulls back then, like the weight of the situation had just hit him, and he stares at Koyama for a beat. Koyama just smiles up at him, preening from all of the affection, but Shige’s eyes stay wide until Koyama reaches for his face again, softly stroking his chin.

“I love you,” Koyama tells him, a fact. “And I know you love me, even if it scares you. It’s okay. Do what you want to me. I want it too.”

Shige head-butts his fingers and Koyama pets him properly, feeling the low purrs everywhere they make contact, and Shige’s hips snap against Koyama’s when Koyama rubs the tip of his ears. Koyama gasps because Shige’s _hard_ and it’s all for him, his own thighs falling open to feel it more. Shige’s moan is beautiful, tickling Koyama’s ear canals in the most pleasant of ways, and he feels Shige shudder when he drags his nails lightly up Shige’s spine.

“ _Kei-chan_ ,” Shige whines, and Koyama didn’t know how much he wanted to hear Shige use that affectionate nickname until he did. “Everywhere you touch me feels so amazing.”

“I could touch you forever,” Koyama says without thinking, only a little embarrassed at saying something so serious the first time they’re together like this.

“I could let you,” Shige replies, just as autonomous judging by the way he twists on top of Koyama from everything he’s feeling. “I want you so much.”

“I’m waiting,” Koyama says pointedly, nudging the tube of lubrication toward Shige’s left hand. “Unless you want me to do it myself?”

Shige groans so low that it would be a purr if he wasn’t already purring nonstop. “As much as I would love to watch that, I want to feel you myself.”

“Another time, then.” Koyama scrutinizes Shige’s face for any indication that there would _not_ be another time, but all he sees is happiness and arousal. The two best feelings, in his opinion.

Then Shige kisses him again and he forgets how to think. Those hands slide up his sides and down his arms, lingering on the toned muscle that Koyama learns is sensitive to this kind of touch, before continuing down over his narrow hips and ending on the insides of his thighs, gradually spreading them even more. Koyama feels air where he usually doesn’t and squirms, his tail loudly thumping the mattress next to him, but Shige quickly reaches for the lube and coats three of his fingers, slowly swirling one of them around the twitching hole until Koyama’s rocking back for it.

It’s been a long time, but Shige’s gentle and Koyama’s body seems to mold to his touch. The vibrations of both of their purrs together is soothing, almost tantric, heightened by the heat of Shige’s skin everywhere they make contact. Koyama gasps as Shige goes deeper and Shige’s mouth drops to his neck, where a faint lick has him arching so sharply that Shige is lifted from the force of it.

“Shige,” Koyama gets out, and Shige’s groan tickles his pulse point. “Feels good.”

Shige responds by grinding against Koyama’s thigh, leaving a drop of precome in his wake that has Koyama even hotter. The third finger is a stretch and it doesn’t help that they’re both impatient, Koyama struggling to relax as Shige taps that spot inside him that makes him see stars.

Then Shige slides his other hand up Koyama’s face into his hair, stroking the soft fur and lightly outlining the ears that are just as sensitive as Shige’s like this. Koyama’s purring so loudly that all he knows is sensation, his body seeming to pull itself in two opposite directions as he pushes toward both of Shige’s hands simultaneously.

“Let me know when you’re ready.”

Shige speaks the words into Koyama’s neck, followed by more wet kisses that have Koyama jerking under his weight. He feels all three of Shige’s fingers stretching him gently and reaches down to curl his fingers around the length grinding against his thigh, his skin breaking into a fresh layer of sweat when Shige moans and snaps his hips.

“I’m ready. Go slowly, though.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, everything goes away. Shige pulls his hands and mouth back so fast that Koyama gets a bit of a shock, leaving him wide open and lonely for the length of time it takes for Shige to roll on a condom and add some more lube. The next second has it returning full force, along with a slight pressure to the insides of his thighs to spread enough for Shige to settle between them.

Koyama gasps as Shige pushes in, fighting his body’s natural urges to tense up until he feels it bottom out. Shige’s breathing as hard as he is, harsh puffs of air tickling the cooled sweat on his chest as they take a minute to adjust. Their hands don’t stay still by any means, Shige rubbing Koyama’s thighs while Koyama’s slide over Shige’s hips to the cheeks of his ass. Koyama squeezes and Shige groans, rocking his hips just enough to make Koyama want more.

“Shige…”

“Hmm?”

“Fuck me.”

A brief flicker of shame washes over Koyama at speaking the vulgar words, but it fades away the instant Shige starts to move. He starts off slow and shallow, then escalates to quick, deep thrusts that have Koyama crying out with each one. Shige’s almost growling, latching his mouth onto Koyama’s skin like it’s instinct, and Koyama revels in how he’s managed to bring out Shige’s feral side.

That’s his last coherent thought for quite a while as he rides out the waves of pleasure that Shige’s giving him so well. Shige’s sweating and shaking on top of him, but he doesn’t lose his rhythm for one beat, even managing to shove a hand between them to curl around Koyama’s cock. Koyama arches and moans, hands grabbing fistfuls of Shige’s skin wherever he can reach like they’re not already close enough.

“Kei-chan...wanna feel you come.”

If Koyama wasn’t already hot all over, that would have done it. Shige’s stroking him twice as fast as he’s snapping his hips and Koyama couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. Throwing his head back, he moans Shige’s name and shudders out his orgasm. His nails dig a little too hard into Shige’s back, but that just has Shige moving faster.

“You too,” Koyama whispers breathlessly into the pointy black ear on top of Shige’s head. It twitches and Koyama lifts both hands to rub them firmly. “Come for me, kitty.”

He didn’t mean to use such an intimate feline term of endearment. It just slips out. But Shige just moans out loud and jerks almost violently, then falls still with heaving breaths and a death clutch on Koyama’s ribcage. Koyama can feel how fast his heart is beating and pets him comfortingly, continuing even when he sighs out the last of it and curls his tail around them both.

“Feel better?” Koyama asks, and Shige nods weakly. “Sorry I called you kitty.”

“It’s okay when _you_ say it.”

Koyama grins while Shige pushes himself up, looking like it takes every bit of the little energy he has left to pull out and fall to the side. He doesn’t go far, less willing to let go than Koyama is. As far as Koyama’s concerned, they can lie like this forever. Now that he knows what it feels like to pet Shige like this, he’s not sure he can go back to _not_ petting him.

“We get do this again, right?”

His words come out muffled by Shige’s throat, but Shige’s sigh indicates that he heard them. Koyama starts to frown, then Shige hugs him closer and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah. We can do it again.”

That’s good enough for Koyama, especially when Shige doesn’t leave after Koyama’s all cleaned up. It’s mostly the fault of the antihistamines making him sleepy, but Koyama takes some credit for wearing him out too. At any rate, Koyama’s happy to have a much larger sleeping companion to cuddle with, even if the usual one curls up on his head in retaliation.

He could swear he hears demonic whispering mixed in with Milk's purrs, but that has to be his brain playing tricks on him. Right?

In the morning, Shige’s allergies have mysteriously disappeared.

*

Koyama is in heaven. At least, the version of heaven where he’s still very much alive and squished between two warm, purring bodies for a nap break between PV takes.

“You know,” Massu says slowly. “There are like seven other windowsills in this studio.”

“This one gets the best sun,” Koyama replies without opening his eyes.

On his other side, Shige snuggles closer and nuzzles his face into Koyama’s shoulder. His feline instincts only come out when he’s sleeping, it seems. It’s seriously cute, even if he's inadvertently thumping his tail on Massu's leg.

Massu kicks them both off of the ledge.


End file.
